8 Ways to Kiss Mudblood Granger
by Zmallet
Summary: 8 Kisses willing, unwilling, accident, meant to be... what will that all amount to in the end? Oh sodding hippogriffs, just read it. DHr
1. Kiss One: In the head’s common room

**Forenote:** I know a lot of people dismiss the DracoHermione shipping before they read it, because they think it's 'wrong' and 'gross' and 'impossible'. That is what makes reading and writing DHr fics so fun! It's a very broad shipping that can cover anything. And let me tell you, it is only 'wrong' and 'gross' because of the circumstances. If you look at it objectively, Draco and Hermione actually have a lot in common. If they met under a different situation, they could've become friends I think. Maybe even more :

**Disclaimer**: All characters and places are property of JK Rowling, I don't own anything D:

**8 Ways to Kiss Mudblood Granger**

Kiss One – In the head's common room

She didn't mean to do it. It was a terrible, terrible mistake which nobody could ever fix, and she felt as if she could jump off the Astronomy tower for her unspeakable sin. Hermione sat glumly in the toilet cubicle for the umpteenth time that week, thinking about what she had done and feeling as if she wanted to puke her guts out.

She had kissed _Draco Malfoy._

On the lips. For real.

It happened two nights ago, in the head's common room. The prefects had been invited for an evening Halloween dinner with the Head Boy and Girl, and of course she, along with Ron had come along expecting great food from the dinner, which of course they got.

Great food, including Butterbeer and Firewhiskey.

Butterbeer and Firewhiskey, which included alcohol as an ingredient, which was one of the things Hermione simply could not overcome the power of. Yes, she could conjure anything the teachers wanted her to. Yes, she passed all of her OWLs with 'Outstanding's. _No, she could not take alcohol._

Ron had offered her a mug of Butterbeer, which she politely declined, knowing that her alcohol-tolerance was next to non-existent. However, Ernie Macmillan, the Hufflypuff _git_ who she thought she could actually trust, thought it would be funny to see the usually uptight and bossy Hermione Granger, unpassable brick wall to rule breakers and the favourite student of every teacher excluding Professor Snape (who doesn't really count, because he's a slimeball), in a state of tipsiness, and so spiked her pumpkin juice with half a cup of Firewhiskey.

And believe it or not, half a cup was more than enough.

But he got more than just tipsiness, yes he did. Hermione was a monster when she was drunk, and according to what she picked up the pieces of the morning after from various parties present at the dinner, she had completely trashed the common room. As the Head Boy and Girl were trying best they could to mend the remains of a broken glass coffee table, she had grabbed _Draco Malfoy _by the collar and pushed him onto the nearest sofa, and according to Hannah Abbott, shared between them what looked like a 'long, mighty good snog'.

And all that in front of Ron.

What the _hell _had Macmillan been thinking?! She'd sworn that the next time she caught sight of him he would spend a month in the hospital wing, but he had mysteriously disappeared from the Hogwarts Grounds altogether. Well, that was what it seemed like anyway.

At least he knew what was good for him, she thought bitterly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco Malfoy was in the middle of Charms class as Hermione Granger was sulking in the loo. Smirking slightly as he noticed that the muggle-born scum was actually not present in the classroom for the first time in six years, he saw that the classroom was nonetheless more lively than usual. Girls were giggling to each other as they shared gossip like always, stealing a glance at him every few minutes, which Draco thought was incredibly annoying.

In addition to all this, the Slytherin scanned the room to find Potty and Weasel King scowling at him. What was up with that? Didn't their mothers ever teach them not to stare? Well, Potter had an eligible excuse seeing as he didn't have one, but Weasley might as well have not had one either, with the manners he possessed.

Finally, he realised what everyone was talking about. Or _who_, more precisely.

It was _him_ they were talking about. _Him_ and his kiss with Mudblood Granger two nights ago.

Bloody hell, hadn't they _heard_ that it was an accident? That Granger had been drunk at the time and had simply grabbed him by the collar, threw him on a couch and started exchanging spit with him? Would they just give it a rest? Obviously not, because a second year boy had come up to him before class to ask him if it was true that he had met her in India on a boy scout trip and was madly in love with her. Needless to say, Draco had told the little bugger to stuff off and to get his facts straight because he _hated _Granger, had never been to India and had no idea what a boy scout, let alone have been one.

Indeed, he was distressed about the whole ordeal as well. He had considered throwing the drunken girl off him, but he had a moral to never hit girls (no matter how odd it sounded for the bully others knew as Draco Malfoy. Half of those bully stories were Crabbe and Goyle's work but it was convenient for him anyway, because less people came to bother him to borrow notes after class or whatever due to sheer fear). Plus, he couldn't even move his arms due to the fact that Granger had pinned them down onto the sofa with her hands and all he could do was thrash his legs around as the whole thing happened. Draco was in a state of relapse for the whole of yesterday.

Yes, he was still very upset about kissing a Mudblood.

No, it didn't help that the whole class was recounting the events, painful detail by painful detail.

Draco Malfoy gingerly licked his lips to moisten them, aware of the fact that a certain Mudblood Granger's _mouth_ had been there less than 48 hours ago.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After venting all her frustration at the cubicle door, Hermione began to feel the strain on her heart loosen and picked up her things, swinging the wooden door of the girls' bathroom behind her. Obviously still thinking about the events that had occurred on Halloween, she failed to notice that, as fate would have it, Draco Malfoy came storming out of Charms class and into her.

The two literally collided with each other, ending up on the floor with sore backs. Hermione felt every ounce of frustration and anger flow back into her.

And Malfoy was not happy either, not one bit.

"What the _hell_ are you thinking about, look where you're looking, Granger!" he barked at the distressed girl. Amused passers-by stopped to watch the argument.

"Hah! That's what I should be asking you, _Malfoy,_" she said venomously, her words dripping with poison.

"Oh, so now this is _my _fault, is it?" the boy retorted, getting back up. "Unlike you, Granger, I actually have things to do other than moping around the loos, so if you excuse me --" Hermione snorted.

"Why would I be _moping_? I'm not the one who walks around school as if I own the place, yet knowing that I am hated by most of the student body," she huffed.

"Last time I checked, Potty and Weasel King don't account for most of the student body," he sneered.

"Come _on _Malfoy, you know it, I hate you, she hates you, he hates you…" Hermione pointed out random members of the growing audience that was fixed on their fight.

"Oh, _you _hate me," he sneered. "Really now?"

"Yes really now!" She wanted to scream at him and wipe the smug expression right off his pale, stupid, Malfoy face.

"Judging from the way you kissed me, I'd beg to differ," he responded cooly but with not without force, knowing that this was where the Gryffindor's weakness lay and would almost certainly evoke a violent response.

And it did. Hermione Granger grew red with fury and stormed past the boy, pushing him to one side purposely as she went. Malfoy staggered back from the force of the blow, and strode off in the opposite direction, apparently muttering something about girls and their tempers…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I could beat him up for you if you wanted me to," Ron said flatly, but with a begging look in his eyes.

"That'll make it worse, and you know it," Hermione replied, flattered that Ron cared for her enough to take revenge for her on the Slytherin scum known as Draco Malfoy. Still, she thought, it would be bad for her reputation if a boy were sticking up for her. She was a strong girl and would fight her own battles, a decision she had made many years ago.

"I'm surprised you haven't murdered him yet, Hermione," Harry joked weakly, trying to light up the situation. After all, Hermione was one of the few, if not the only girl who'd had the honour of punching Malfoy's sorry face and lived to tell the tale. Known to be the stuff of Hogwart's legend, Hermione Granger punching Draco Malfoy in their third year had been the gossip for a week after the school had seen Draco's nose after being patched up by Madam Pomfrey -- Harry reckoned it had never returned to how it used to be. The best thing was, teachers like Snape couldn't do anything about it, since there was no proof and Malfoy would never admit to getting his arse kicked by a _girl_.

The three were sitting in the library, under the watchful nose of Madam Pince (which was saying something, considering the size of her nose), finishing off their homework. This was where Hermione most felt at home and spent a great deal of her time when not in class – Ron and Harry never visited it much, but decided to come along just this time to cheer up their friend after the whole Malfoy ordeal, which they understood must have been hard on her.

So imagine their annoyance when Colin Creevey raced into the library and shouted loudly, much to the anger of Madam Pince, "Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are to report to the Headmaster's office!"

Ron stood up quickly and violent, making a move for the shrimpy fifth-year, when Harry held him back by the collar.

"Him… stupid midget… I'll teach him a lesson, he…" Ron's ears grew red, a dangerous sign, but Harry didn't let go.

"It's all right Ron. I'll go," Hermione shuffled all her things back into her bag, and stood up from the seat when Draco Malfoy glided silently past the trio's table with a look of fury on his face that would rival Ron's. Harry let go of Ron, who was breathing deeply in some effort to calm himself down which was obviously not happening soon.

All the boys could do for her were stare as they saw the back of her head exit the double doors of the library, closely followed by the silvery-blonde locks of Draco Malfoy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"It has come to my attention that you two have some… ahem, differences that you should sort out, according to the Heads who saw you bickering in the corridors this morning," Dumbledore said amusedly, peering wisely through his half-moon glasses at the duo before him. "Now, if one of you could kindly share with me the story of the events that occurred on the evening Halloween…" Although he said it in such a way that suggested that he already knew.

"Why don't you ask Ernie MacMillian," Hermione spat bitterly, staring fixedly at an empty portrait on the wall, determined not to meet the wise twinkling blue eyes of the Headmaster, nor the cold grey of her enemy. She heard Malfoy snort beside her.

"Why not ask the whole group of Prefects and the Heads about how she nearly raped me?" he joked harshly.

"Ah, but I presume this was an accident?" Dumbledore knowingly smiled to himself. The similarities between the two students really were striking. They were both stubborn and knew how to fight fire with fire. It really was a strange case as to why they were enemies.

"Of course it was Professor!" Hermione snapped at him. "Do you really think I would kiss… _him_," she spat, "on my own accord?!" Malfoy simply rolled his eyes.

"Calm down, Miss Granger. Ernie MacMillan has already confessed to his crime and, not to worry, he will be on supervised detentions with Professor McGonagall for the rest of the month," Dumbledore saw the girl's mouth begin to open again, but silenced her with a gesture of his hand. "The reason you are here is not because of that. Arguments in the corridor are frowned upon, even if not against the rules," he said and sighed, then continued. "Hogwarts, as the Sorting Hat has continually said, should promote inter-house unity. This is a case of precisely the opposite of that, Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger."

"And what exactly do you mean by that, _Professor_?" Malfoy drawled.

"I am curious, why do you dislike each other so much?" Dumbledore asked, straightening up.

"Because she's –" Draco stopped before the word 'mudblood' escaped his lips. It was definitely not good enough a reason to argue over, and being only second to Granger in terms of intelligence, he promptly shut up.

"_Malfoy is bigheaded, selfish and a Slytherin,_" Hermione hissed poisonously. She really did not care that she came across as rude to her Headmaster, blurting out all the reasons she hated her enemy was worth it.

"So you are saying you are judging him based on the fact that he is in a different house to your own?" Dumbledore raised a white eyebrow.

"I, no – that's not what I meant… I mean, it's just _Slytherin_…"

"May I remind you, Miss Granger, that it was Mister MacMillan, a _Hufflepuff_, who slipped alcohol into your drink on Halloween," Dumbledore said, amused by the teenager's feeble argument. Hermione couldn't think of anything to respond with, and merely turned a deep pink. The infamous Hermione Granger had finally been caught out. Malfoy could've danced. Dumbledore continued to talk, ignoring Hermione's silence.

"It would be nice to see more inter-house unity around the place. But I guess it's impossible for Gryffindors and Slytherins to settle their differences," he shrugged.

"I'll see you both around later. I do believe you have a History of Magic lesson in five minutes. Ta!" Dumbledore smiled wisely at the bewildered expressions of the two before him. Without a choice, Draco and Hermione exited the Headmaster's office with a lot to digest.

As they approached Professor Binn's classroom, having had some time to think over what Dumbledore had told them, Draco turned to Hermione and said, "Listen, I don't really… that is to say," he fumbled over his words – it really was hard for him, "I guess what I want to say is, I'm sorry for the stuff I've put you through over the years." He thought he would explode from the inside. Had the really just apologised to _Mudblood Granger?_ What the hell was the world coming to?!

Hermione was at a loss for words. "Well… erm… I guess, I am too?"

"Don't take that as an invitation for friendship," he retorted coldly. "I just don't want to be pulled into Dumbledore's office again. Don't think you're getting chummy with me, Granger."

With that, he stalked off into the classroom, leaving a thoroughly confused Hermione standing in the corridor, one eyebrow raised.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Phew! The end of the first chapter! I'm not sure how I'll do this, it's very hard to get two people who hate each other together… of course Dumbledore will play a major role : There will be 8 chapters in this mini-series, but I may be rushing ahead too quickly. I'm doing this as a contrast to the marauder fics I'm writing, since I need a break from Sirius and James every so often. Remember, don't dismiss the idea of DHr so easily!!! **Please review! **zmallet


	2. Kiss Two: Her Fairytale?

**8 Ways to Kiss Mudblood Granger**

Kiss Two – Her fairytale?

A week had passed since Malfoy's unexpected apology, and life had continued as normal, though Hermione noticed that he had been bothering the trio less and less. Not that she minded, of course. Any time spent without the presence of the conceited Slytherin prince was golden. Plus, it meant that she could spend more time in the library without being disrupted. Harry and Ron had stopped accompanying her there when they saw how much better she looked after paying a visit to Dumbledore's office. ("I dunno what Dumbledore did to them, but I sure as hell aren't going to complain," Ron had said, earning a swift kick to the shins from Hermione under the table.)

In fact, if she really thought about it, she had only really seen Malfoy at mealtimes and in the classes she shared with him. After all, how could she _not_ notice him in Potions? Snape, being the biased git he was, never missed an opportunity to praise his favourite student and tell Neville how much he could learn from him. It never hurt that potions was Malfoy's best subject either, Hermione thought bitterly. In fact, potions was the only subject she had been really worried about during OWLs last year, knowing full well that Malfoy was a strong rival and it would require a lot of study in order to top his marks. The situation was not aided by how much Snape despised her.

It had all gotten better this year though, ever since Slughorn had stepped in.

So it came as an utter surprise to Hermione when one double potions lesson, Snape appeared and told them that he would relieving for the next month, since Professor Slughorn had some urgent business to attend to. He half-smirked at the class and said flatly, "From now on you will be sitting in arranged places in the classroom, so that you are not _tempted_," he cast a look in Hermione and Neville's direction, "to help those less… talented in this art." Neville looked downcast, while Hermione was mortified.

"Crabbe, go sit next to Mister Longbottom. I want Weasley and Potter to split up. Weasley can go sit next to Miss Parkinson. Potter, kindly shift your arrogant presence to the empty table next to my desk. Miss Granger, move next to Mister Malfoy. Goyle, move to Miss Patil and Miss Brown's table." Snape was met with the horrified stares of his sixth-year class. Pansy Parkinson looked like she was going to strangle him, contorting her face to an expression that did her personality justice.

"But -- "

"Professor!"

"Are you serious? I can't believe --"

"SILENCE!"

The classroom fell silent.

"_Move,_" Snape hissed evilly, so much so that Harry could not distinguish whether it was an English word or if he had spoken in Parseltongue. Everyone started to pick up their things and grumbling. Ron kicked over a stool in anger.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Pass me the knife, Granger," Malfoy said, not really paying attention to her but instead looking at the blackboard on which Snape had now written all the directions for the potion they were going to make.

"I'm not your bloody slave, Malfoy," Hermione retorted automatically. "Besides, the knife is right there, it's equal distance from both of us. You can get it." Malfoy cast his attention to her direction and raised his eyebrow.

"For Merlin's sake, Granger, no need to get your knickers in a twist," he muttered, taking the knife himself and proceeding to cut up his Burtlap root. Deciding not to pursue the matter further, Hermione merely sighed and tried to concentrate on her own potion.

They carried on in silence like this, completely the opposite of the rest of the class. Ron and Pansy were now in a heated debate about which house's Quidditch team was better. Harry was sulking miserably by himself on the table next to Snape's desk, being given advice every few minutes, like, 'don't put your nose in things don't concern you, Potter,' and 'You're as useless at potions as your father, Potter. It's a shame you didn't inherit your mother's talent.'

Draco's hand brushed past Hermione's as he was reaching for the Dittany, making her freeze -- he didn't seem to notice the contact at all. Noticing that Hermione had frozen up, Malfoy scoffed, "You're stirring your potion too much, Granger." Hermione flushed and looked down at her potion, which was indeed a bit over-stirred.

"Shit," she muttered, getting her wand out to fix her mistake.

"Didn't know you were the type to mutter obscenities," Malfoy smirked.

"Yeah well, you don't know me very well, Malfoy," Granger smiled sweetly at him. Malfoy shrugged and smiled in his teacher's pet way as Snape went past their table, complimenting his potion and proceeding to scowl at Hermione's.

"Please tell me Granger, what it says on step sixteen?"

"To stir the potion ten and a quarter times anticlockwise," She answered, through gritted teeth.

"And how many times have you stirred it, Granger?" Snape drawled.

"Almost twelve times, Professor," she muttered darkly.

"That's right, Granger. And although you have covered the mistake satisfactorily, the potency of the potion will be weaker. So, this potion is useless for the purpose for which we are intending," Snape smirked.

"I won't do it again, Professor," she replied coolly.

"I daresay I hope not," he drawled. Malfoy smirked beside her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"That Snape, I ask you, what the hell is he thinking?" Ron proclaimed loudly over lunch. "Separating everyone? It's going to bring out more suffering for him than good!"

Harry nodded in agreement. "You can practically be deafened by Ron and Parkinson's conversations from the other side of the room," he grinned.

"Isn't it awful of him to make Harry sit beside him on an empty desk? It just screams prejudice!" Hermione said angrily.

"Wow, prejudice, I've always wondered what _that_ felt like in Snape's classes," Harry said sarcastically. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"And poor Neville! Sitting next to that absolute _baboon_ Crabbe! Look what he did to him," Hermione continued ranting. In fact, Neville had come out of potions with Burtlap juice all over his robes, after Crabbe had 'accidentally' spilled his bowl all over his table partner.

"_And_," Hermione continued, "Snape was so fussy about my potion! I don't think the fact that my potion was a _bit_ weaker is going to make much of a difference in a real situation!" She huffed, neglecting to mention the reason that her potion was weaker was because Malfoy had touched her hand.

"Oh well Hermione, you know Snape, he'll pick up on nitpicky details just so that he can lecture the know-it-all," Ron grinned. Hermione smiled weakly at him, though she was frustrated. At this moment, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown decided to shift over from their part of the table to join the conversation uninvited (but then again, when did they ever wait to be invited?).

"So, _Hermione_," Lavender smiled so widely that Hermione wondered how it was that her lips didn't split in the middle from stretching so far. Parvati was containing her giggles so much that her cheeks were as red as Ron's ears when he was angry.

"How are you enjoying sitting next to _Draco Malfoy_?" Lavender finally questioned, winking at her. Parvati burst out giggling, unable to hold it in any longer.

"What do you mean? She hates it, naturally, who the hell do you think you're asking, bloody Parkinson?" Ron replied incredulously. Hermione once again felt her heart flutter.

"Mmm… well the little birdie that told me of Malfoy and Hermione's extra curricular activities, namely on a certain Halloween, would beg to differ…" Lavender said with a huge wink at the chestnut haired girl. Ron's ears went scarlet again. A deep voice coughed seriously behind them.

"If you had _eyes_, Brown, I doubt you would've needed to listen to that birdie of yours, let alone have believed it," the silver-eyed boy said, annoyed. Lavender Brown gaped at him, turning red at the cheeks with embarrassment.

"What's the matter Brown, birdie got your tongue?" Draco smirked at the group, noticing how weird they looked, three girls and two boys standing in a row looking at him. He felt rather in control, much to his liking. Lavender and her giggling-no-longer companion gave a little 'hmph!' and turned away, sliding back to their part of the table.

Draco turned to Hermione, slid a black notebook towards her and, smirking in his Malfoy-ish way, whispered,"Don't drop your personal items unless you want others to see them." The blonde-haired boy then disappeared as quickly as he had come, striding quickly back to the Slytherin table.

Hermione was mentally panicking. That was her _diary_ that he had just slid across the table at her. Had he read it? Oh shit. What if he had? She should've known not to carry it around with her… but what if Lavender or Parvati got hold of it if she left it in the common room? _Better them than Malfoy,_ she thought bitterly. Actually no. It would be quite equal in severity. But still, how the hell had it fallen out of her bag? Oh… maybe when she was trying to get her potions book out from the bottom, and then forgotten to pack it away in her haste to leave Snape's presence… Oh hell, this was some predicament she had gotten herself into. She stole a glance at Ron who was laughing at a joke about gnomes he had just made up, much to everyone else's dismay, thinking about what could happen if Malfoy _had_ read it and decided to spread it around… Unless he hadn't…

Hermione groaned. She was not going to confuse herself in a maze of paradoxes in this crucial time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Relax Granger, I'm not going to eat you," Draco said bemusedly as they sat down for potions the following afternoon. Hermione had edged her seat as far away from him as possible while still allowing herself table space for preparing ingredients.

"It's not that I'm worried about," Hermione muttered darkly.

"I pity you too much to do anything harmful, Granger." Hermione looked up. Why would he say that? The Malfoy-scheme-detector she had established in her brain had started to race ahead, thinking up a million theories within the space of seconds.

"I mean, _Weasley?_ Who would've guessed…? I thought that even _you_ would have raised yourself beyond _his_ level…" Malfoy cocked his head to one side, smirking.

"_You didn't…_" Hermione hissed, fuming. She was ready to stab Malfoy's hand with the potions knife already when he edged away slowly, eying the sharp object.

"I didn't read your little notebook of all things joyful, if that's what you're accusing me of," he said, rolling his eyes.

"You… didn't?" The girl was confused. Why hadn't he read it? She would've thought that her diary would've been the perfect revenge he could've possibly gotten on her for the kiss event, and something just didn't seem right…

"Then… how did you know --" she spluttered.

"Well, first of all," Draco began casually, but smiling on the inside since he was once again the centre of attention (attention seeking jerk, Ron called him),"you always eye him with this dreamy expression when you think nobody's looking," Hermione flushed and angry shade of red. "And, a page of your diary is sticking out of your bag," he motioned, pointing toward a lined page with the letters "H+R" in a messy heart. Hermione quickly stuffed it back in, flustered.

"That could mean anyone! And I do _not_ eye him with a dreamy expression on my face…" she muttered, while cramming the notebook back to the bottom of her bag. How did the damn thing always find a way to crawl up her bag?

"Well you seem to be getting awfully touchy about the subject, making you even more suspicious," he drawled lazily, smirking. "By the way, you've stirred your potion too much again."

"Fuck off, Malfoy," She gritted through clenched teeth, getting out her wand to fix the problem, knowing exactly what Snape was going to say to her when he passed by.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_She was leaning on his shoulder, smiling. Clasping__ his hand in hers, she closed her eyes and felt the gentle rhythm of their hearts beating in harmony… Feeling the delicate touch of his lips on her temple, she looked up to see his face, only to find his features obscured by a mask. The man freed himself from her grasp and took flight, running from her until he was no more than a speck in the distance…_

Then Hermione woke up, palms sweating and heart beating. She knew who it was of course… Ron always appeared in her dreams. But, why was he wearing a mask?

The giggles of Lavender and Parvati broke through her thoughts and she saw how stupid she was being. It was a DREAM… she wasn't going to fall through one of Professor Trelawney's doors and start inquiring her about its true meaning or something like that…

Still, she blushed. It was a side of Hermione that was rarely seen, the girl who liked romance and fairytales…

"I wonder what was under the mask…" she murmured.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco Malfoy was sitting on a bench on the grounds of Hogwarts at noon on Saturday. He was holding a book, but he had long gone past the point of reading. He was thinking and reflecting about his life, primarily about Pansy Parkinson. Sure, the girl was hot, but that wasn't why Draco had had his eyes on her from the beginning. She was interesting, and had one hell of a temper, something that he found himself being attracted to. But he had seen how many other guys she had made out with during the period of time they had been going out, and although he really liked her, he was beginning to see that it was not the case the other way around. He closed his eyes, groaning. Why was it so hard for a guy who already had a girlfriend to sort out his feelings? Eventually, the blonde haired boy fell asleep on the bench, unaware of the girl who had taken a seat next to him, not knowing who he was since he'd had his face in a book.

Hermione Granger was also holding a book in her hands, but unlike the boy next to her, she was actually reading. Occasionally stopping to scrawl in notes about what she'd read, she never looked up once to examine the Slytherin beside her.

Well, until she felt something warm holding onto her hand. Hermione peeked over the top of her book and almost let go of it in fright as she saw Draco Malfoy clasping her right tightly in his left, snoring gently beside her. Stifling a scream of horror, she tried to free herself from him, but he only held on tighter.

So, there sat Hermione, rigid from fright and revulsion, unable to free her hand from Malfoy's grasp. She'd tried to wake him up with no avail, and she didn't want to do anything drastic and disturb everyone around them… but even so, many couples raised eyebrows in their direction as they were walking past.

So after giving up trying to free herself and finally accepting that she was going to be sitting on that bench for more than just a few minutes, Hermione tried to keep reading. When she found that she couldn't concentrate properly nor take notes while her right hand was in Malfoy's, she let out a grunt of frustration and continued to sit there, not doing anything in particular. Her thoughts started to wander, and she lost contact with the real world altogether as she went deeper into her reverie.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She was leaning on his shoulder, eyes closed, unaware of the stares that were directed towards them. Her hand was still clasped in his, and she felt him move beneath her. This snapped her out of her sleep at last. Seeing him starting to move, Hermione tried desperately to free herself from him. Hermione heard the boy murmur "Pansy…" so softly in her ear before she felt the familiar taste of his lips on her reluctant ones, her eyes widening in shock.

A boyish scream erupted from Hogwarts Grounds as Draco Malfoy opened his eyes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Woah! I haven't updated in a while and even now it's not going well. This story is bugging me so much lately for some reason… the events seem so coincidental, right? Well that's because DHr is just meant to be :D The next chapter will probably take ages for me to write again.. so sorry ; **Please review! **Zmallet


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